


It Started With a Quad

by harimaron



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2019-2020 Figure Skating Season, 3A4T, Accidental Sex, Clothed Sex, Consent, Dry Humping, Explicit Consent, Extreme Fondness, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Humor, ISU Grand Prix of Figure Skating, Inspired by Worlds 2017, Kissing, M/M, Messy, Not Wearing Underwear, Porn with Feelings, Quad Flip (Figure Skating), Quad Jumps (Figure Skating), Sexual Humor, Shoma is a brat, Shoma is ridiculous, Shoma speaking English, Teasing, The writer is bad at tags, This wasn't supposed to get smutty but it happened anyway, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 19:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18901006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harimaron/pseuds/harimaron
Summary: You’d think he would have learned from the first time he impulsively sent his phone back home in the middle of a competition after messing up on his short program. Yet here he was once again.“Can I borrow your phone?”“Why?”“I posted mine home.”“WHY?” Yuzuru looked on the brink of amused and incredibly confused and Shoma felt embarrassed to have to explain the situation again.Or: the one in which Shoma's occasional lack of impulse control leads to other things.





	It Started With a Quad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shomaun_ho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shomaun_ho/gifts).



> This was written for shomaun_ho, because she always gives such wonderful Yuzusho content to the community and I wanted to give back. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I borrowed a couple of dialogue lines from our chats that shomaun_ho came up with as we discussed this idea, denoted in the fic with a [1] marking because I really wanted to use them.
> 
> This is my first time publishing for the Figure Skating RPF community, so I sincerely hope I was able to do this some justice! Please enjoy. This is set vaguely during the 2019-2020 figure skating season, probably during the Grand Prix series. (It's really open to interpretation.) It turned out a lot longer than I originally intended for it to... I also didn't originally intend to make it smutty, but things don't always go according to plan, huh.
> 
> I want to note that I purposely tried to keep a third-person omniscent point of view for this, but I may have failed at some points because I'm so used to writing from a specific perspective, so I'm sorry for any discrepancies or inconsistencies this may have caused. I also admittedly didn't edit this as much as I would have liked because I'm impatient and really wanted to get this published today. I hope it still reads okay.
> 
> Now on with it!

**It Started With a Quad**

You’d think he would have learned from the first time he impulsively sent his phone back home in the middle of a competition after messing up on his short program. Yet here he was once again.

The first night wasn’t so bad. He was still angry at himself for the bad landing and under-rotation on his first quad in the program that pretty much threw off his mental state for the rest of the skate. He ended up in _seventh_ place and nothing anyone could say would make him feel like that was in any way _okay_. He had to make up for it in the free skate, so until then, he borrowed Mihoko’s phone to listen to his long program music on repeat and did some ‘off ice training’ in the confines of his hotel room instead of enjoying a fun video game as he would normally do. _He wasn’t angry enough to punish himself with vegetables just yet._

He killed the free skate with a perfect landing on his fully-rotated triple axel-quad toe loop combination and later stunning the crowd even further with a shocking and never-before-seen execution of a triple axel-euler-quad flip, originally intended to only end in a triple flip. The crowds roared and there was so much hype and uncertainty over the scoring for the brand new combination move. When the scores finally did come in, Shoma was still in a bit of a daze, unsure as to what exactly had just happened in the last ten minutes of his life as Mihoko gushed proudly at his side in the Kiss and Cry. Needless to say, he set a season’s best score by a large margin and jumped straight into second place, just behind Yuzuru. It felt great to share a podium once more and they even carried out their traditional wedding pose for the cameras, falling into easy giggles and shows of affection towards one another--from the podium poses to skating around proudly with their Japan flags. Shoma felt on top of the world now, having made figure skating history.

Until nightfall.

That was when he realized he had nothing to do--no way to kill the time until he eventually passed out. He felt restless and even singing his favourite songs became boring when he didn’t have the actual track playing in his headphones. With nothing better to do, he unpacked and re-packed the suitcase he was temporarily living out of, as though that would make any kind of difference--it somehow turned out worse than before. There was only one solution.

Minutes later he was knocking on Keiji’s hotel room door, standing out in the hallway in a t-shirt and worn out sweatpants that looked a little too loose around the waist on him. He couldn’t be too loud, but Keiji wasn’t answering, so he rapped on the door with a little more force until it was opened, revealing a very tired looking Keiji on the other side.

“Shoma, what?” he asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

Keiji looked at him as though he’d grown a second head, unsure if he was still, in fact, asleep and dreaming all of this up. If only this was the first time that Shoma had done something weird like this...

“No, you have your own.” He tried to close his door but Shoma tried to stop him, a hand promptly reaching out and stopping it from closing all the way.

“I don’t, I sent it home. Please, can I play games on yours?”

“You sent it home.” Keiji wasn’t trying to sound judgmental, really. That explained why Shoma never showed up after the competition for their usual night of gaming, but now Keiji had already turned in for the night.

“I was mad about my short program score. And now I’m really bored. Please?”

“I’m sleeping. Go bother Yuzuru. I’m sure he’ll be very happy to be included in your celebration night this time,” Keiji said, alluding to the time Yuzuru had commented in an interview about not getting invited to Shoma and Keiji’s post-competition game night.

“But Yuzu has worse games.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that,” Keiji threatened.

“I tell him all the time.” [1]

“Then you can tell him again.” With that, Keiji closed the door with a pointed, _good night_.

And that was how Shoma wound up in front of Yuzuru’s hotel door after restlessly pacing up and down the length of the hall several times before finally giving into the need to just find something to busy himself with already. He wasn’t even sure if Yuzuru would still be awake, but he supposed there was only one way to find out. He knocked.

He heard some distant sounds from inside that sounded like someone was shuffling around, indicating that Yuzuru was very much awake, so he knocked again, a little louder this time.

“ _Coming, coming._ ”

When Yuzuru pulled his door open, he was in the middle of pulling a shirt over his head and Shoma got a good eyeful of--well, _abs_. Nicely defined abs. Distracting abs that made him forget to speak. Yuzuru paused for just a moment before pulling his shirt the rest of the way down, obstructing Shoma’s view and bringing him back down to earth.

“Shoma? What are you doing here?”

Raising his gaze from Yuzuru’s flat stomach to his face, Shoma noticed that his hair was still a little wet--he’d probably taken a shower recently. His eyes caught a droplet of water that slowly descended down the side of Yuzuru’s face to his neck, but before he could follow it too far down, he snapped his attention back up. Seeing the expectant look in those dark eyes, he remembered his reason for coming here.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“Why?”

“I posted mine home.”

“WHY?” [1] Yuzuru looked on the brink of amused and incredibly confused and Shoma felt embarrassed to have to explain the situation _again_. Just as he parted his lips to respond, Yuzuru stepped back and pulled the door open the rest of the way so that Shoma could step inside. “I thought you’d be having a game night with Keiji again.”

“Yeah, well, I got really mad about my short program.”

“Again?” Yuzuru asked with a chuckle, locking the door and then stepping around Shoma to plop down onto his knees on his hotel bed and reach across for the phone that he had plugged in on top of the end table. Shoma followed him inside after toeing his shoes off at the door, filling with relief when Yuzuru held out the unlocked device for him. He happily took it and sank down onto the cushiony mattress himself without waiting for an invitation to do so. He grabbed one of the hotel-provided pillows and pulled it onto his lap for comfort as he looked for Yuzuru’s game apps while Yuzuru grabbed the towel he’d previously discarded and continued trying off his hair in front of a mirror.

“Where’d all the ones I installed last time go? I only see like one…” Shoma commented with a frown.

“I didn’t like them,” Yuzuru replied distractedly, then returned to sit down on the bed next to him with his laptop out, headphones plugged in, probably to rewatch his skate or something--Shoma wasn’t really paying attention now that he had his hands full.

Shoma shifted on the bed until he could lie down on his stomach, his chest rested on the pillow at the foot of the bed as he clicked on the app store application.

“I’m downloading Knives Out again.”

“I’m gonna delete it as soon as you leave.” [1]

Shoma didn’t reply, already starting the game up.

Some time later, he heard the shutting of Yuzuru’s laptop and then felt a finger poking his hip. He hummed something unintelligible in response and wiggled his own body just slightly, but didn’t look away from the phone screen, completely engrossed in the game that he probably shouldn’t still find so fun.

“ _Shomaaa_.”

“Mm?”

Yuzuru stretched his leg out and poked at Shoma’s arm with his foot. Shoma whined in response and batted his foot away with one hand, still not looking up. So Yuzuru tried again, this time trying to very sneakily bring his foot up to the back of Shoma’s neck, and when the cold toes pressed against the hot skin there, Shoma squeaked loudly in horror and twisted around to grab Yuzuru’s leg by the ankle, sending the gold medalist a glare as he held the limb at a safe distance away from his face.

“ _Stop_.”

“ _You_ stop. Aren’t you bored of that game yet?”

“Never.” Shoma shoved Yuzuru’s leg towards the edge of the bed and turned his attention back down to his game, hoping that Yuzuru wouldn’t do that again.

Yuzuru observed him lying on his bed like that, arms and chest squished against the plush white hotel pillow, body lying flat against the mattress. Some skin was exposed at the waist where the black T-shirt had ridden up, almost begging to be poked at. Then, the curve of Shoma’s butt looked nice and round under the loose-looking navy sweatpants that were actually quite flattering on the skater’s petit figure--at least in _this_ position.

But back to that _waist_.

“Your shirt is riding up,” Yuzuru commented boredly, and Shoma probably should have seen it coming, but he didn’t have quite enough time to register the words before the light press of fingers against his most ticklish spot sent him convulsing, flipping over onto his back and grabbing Yuzuru’s wrist--except when he did this, Yuzuru just used his other hand to continue the assault. Shoma nearly kicked him in the face due to his backwards position on the bed--he probably would have if Yuzuru hadn’t already shifted his own position to avoid such a thing. Shoma was forced to let go of the phone to grab Yuzuru’s other wrist in a firm enough grip that would prevent him from tickling him any further.

“Stop!” Shoma whined again, not even registering how Yuzuru was now sitting up on his knees and hovering over him, not realizing how awkward this position probably should have been for the both of them. “You’ll make me lose!”

“You already beat it,” Yuzuru pointed out, looking down into Shoma’s eyes. Shoma’s head was pressed back into the pillow now, his hair a little messy from the sudden movements. His cheeks were a little flushed, reddened splotches having appeared around his jaw area, not too striking yet but very much there in a pattern that Yuzuru was already familiar with. No doubt, if he bugged Shoma just a little more, the flush of skin would extend down to his neck.

“You don’t just ‘beat’ it,” Shoma countered and finally let go of Yuzuru’s wrists.

“ _Played_ it, whatever,” Yuzuru said with a roll of his eyes, reaching up to nurse the skin of one of his thin wrists after being held in such an unexpectedly tight grasp. He idly wondered if that would leave a mark. As he pondered upon that, Shoma turned back over onto his stomach to scramble for the phone again, his side coming into contact with Yuzuru’s knees in the process since the bed wasn’t too big to begin with. He at least wanted to turn the game off so that the progress would save without accidentally dying--or so Yuzuru hoped he would do. Instead, he got engrossed in it once again. What a brat.

Yuzuru threw himself back down onto the bed with a bounce that Shoma _must_ have felt, pressing his head into the hypoallergenic pillow that he’d brought along with him to the competition as he turned onto his side, facing purposefully away from Shoma. Perhaps he was being a little sulky. It was hopeless trying to pull Shoma out of his game once he got so into it, so Yuzuru could only try to do the next best thing-- _sleep_.

Except it was a little difficult to sleep, since the bed was still made and the blanket was effectively trapped under Shoma’s body, which he discovered about half an hour or so into his attempted nap--he couldn’t know exactly how much time had passed since Shoma was still holding his phone hostage.

“Shoma.”

“Mm?”

Yuzuru turned back over onto his back to look at him. Shoma lay there with his knees bent, feet dangling up in the air. “Can I get the blanket out from under you?”

This got Shoma moving. He promptly sat up on his knees and scrambled closer to the foot of the bed so that Yuzuru could get under the blanket. The lights in the room were still dimly lit but Yuzuru didn’t quite feel like turning them off all the way. Instead, he stripped the bed of the covers by arching his body off the mattress until he was able to effectively slip underneath them and try to go to sleep again.

Except he couldn’t. Because he wasn’t tired whatsoever despite the long day that they had. And also because Shoma was still sitting there at the foot of his bed with his knees drawn to his chest and with his attention still stuck on that stupid game--Yuzuru bitterly remembered why he’d deleted it in the first place.

“You know you can get under the blanket too.”

Shoma’s eyes actually lifted from the screen and met his this time. He pressed something on the screen and then got off the bed, walked around it to place the pillow back against the headrest where it belonged, and then hesitantly sat down at the edge of it with one leg folded beneath him and the other dangling off the side of the bed as he gazed down at Yuzuru--not at his face, but just a little lower. He looked more tired than Yuzuru felt, but maybe that was from staring at the phone screen for too long. Yuzuru raised an eyebrow up at him, but Shoma just sat there, appearing to have spaced out a bit.

“You okay?” Yuzuru asked. Shoma’s eyes grew wide and snapped back up to his face, as though he’d just realized that he’d dozed off with his eyes open. Yuzuru chuckled amiably and reached a hand out towards him without much purpose. “Are you done playing now?”

Shoma nodded and looked down at Yuzuru’s phone again, now open to the home screen. He could see Line notifications that had occasionally been popping up while he was playing and that he purposely ignored for the sake of Yuzuru’s privacy--and because most of the messages were in English. “I think Javier was texting you.” He lowered his hand and held the phone loosely so that Yuzuru could easily take it from him.

“Yeah? What did he say?” Yuzuru reached over and took the device, clicked on the notification with Javi’s name and read through the messages, a fond smile growing on his face. As Shoma watched him, he wondered if Yuzuru ever made that face when _he_ was the one who texted him. Not that he texted him too often, or _ever_ , for that matter. He always wanted to but never quite knew what to say. Perhaps he feared being unable to hold a proper text conversation, or Yuzuru giving him bored, one-word responses and brushing him off. Maybe a part of him even thought that the lack of communication between competitions would make their meetings more meaningful when they did finally see one another. Yuzuru never really texted him either--not since the time around when they both medaled at the Pyeongchang Olympics. He was probably too busy to spare him a thought while he was training, and during Fantasy on Ice they saw one another in person, so there had been no point in texting.

“Sho,” Yuzuru said again as he sat up and motioned for Shoma to get closer. Shoma obeyed, sliding further into Yuzuru’s bed until the other seemed satisfied enough and rested a hand on the back of Shoma’s waist. Shoma wanted to ask what he was doing, but then Yuzuru held his phone up for the both of them to see the messages from Javi. Shoma’s head was still swimming from the warm press of the hand on the small of his back, the heat radiating through the fabric of his shirt--growing hot and electrifying the more he pondered upon it. Yuzuru was showing him something--he had to remind himself of this, and he forced his eyes to stare at the screen, even if he could hardly make anything out on it at this point. Then Yuzuru pointed to one particular message for him to focus on and that made it easier.

Shoma read the message out loud in heavily accented English, pronouncing it syllable by syllable as he tried to understand the entirety of it. “ _Tell Shoma his free skate was amazing. Great jumps. The most beautiful I have ever seen him perform. Congratulations on the medals._ Oh.” Shoma abruptly turned his head to face Yuzuru once he’d read it, but whatever he wanted to say then got stuck somewhere in his throat as he noticed how close their faces suddenly were. His breath hitched and he had to remind himself how to breathe. Yuzuru just smiled at him--that same fond smile that he’d seen seconds ago, only this time directed at him.

“He’s right, you know. It was a beautiful performance. I still can’t get over that combo--I’m a little jealous.” Something about Yuzuru using the word _beautiful_ to describe him caused his heart to flutter in his chest despite his will for it not to. Because this was no big deal--it wasn't like Yuzuru was calling _him_ beautiful.

“You watched?” he asked with a bare hint of a smile. Yuzuru raised an eyebrow, as though Shoma was crazy for even asking, and then gestured with his head towards his laptop, now set aside on the end table with its lid closed. It suddenly dawned on Shoma that it wasn’t his own skate that Yuzuru had been rewatching earlier but Shoma’s. While Shoma was being a brat and ignoring him for a game that Yuzuru was nice enough to let him enjoy in the first place just because Shoma had a dumb moment the other day and sent his phone away.

“Let’s take a thank you video for him!” Yuzuru suddenly exclaimed with a bounce, sitting up straighter and shifting back to lean against the headboard.

“Wha--?” Shoma didn’t get much reaction time before Yuzuru’s hand was around him again, this time drawing him closer in so that they could both get into the camera shot. Then Yuzuru was clicking the record button almost too soon for Shoma’s liking.

“ _Hi Javi! We miss you very much. I am here with Shoma._ ” This was all happening too fast for Shoma and suddenly Yuzuru was wrapping his fingers around his wrist and holding his hand up so that he could wave to the camera. “ _Say hello, Shoma._ ”

“ _Hello_ ,” Shoma said, barely audible as he numbly waved while looking at the screen reflecting the two of them. He got a great sense of deja vu from this.

“ _Wish you were here. Thank you for your kind words. Shoma read your message,_ ” Yuzuru said and then turned to Shoma to say in Japanese, “Tell him thank you for the message.”

_Oh._

“Thank you for the message…” Shoma accidentally said in Japanese at first, mimicking Yuzuru’s exact words, before realizing that he was speaking the wrong language. It got a soft giggle out of the gold medalist because that was just like Shoma. Shoma amended his mistake by attempting his best English, enunciating the words carefully. “ _Thank you, Javi. I am glad you watch and enjoy my skating. I will work hard for the next time too._ ” He bowed his head in sincerity, pressing a hand to his chest, and then before he knew it, Yuzuru’s hand was ruffling his hair affectionately as the other skater leaned closer against his side-- _so warm_.

“ _We love you, Javi! Bye bye!_ ” Yuzuru waved at the camera and Shoma followed suit, muttering his own quiet, _bye bye_. Then Yuzuru clicked send. “He’s going to love that so much. Aw, I miss him.” He slid down the bedding until he was lying on his back and then tilted his head to gaze up at Shoma’s watchful brown eyes that had followed his movements. His hand sought out Shoma’s and took it into a gentle hold, giving it a subtle tug that had Shoma sliding in beside him. He wondered if this was really okay, but was too afraid to ask because he didn’t exactly want to go back to his hotel room to be alone right now--which was odd, considering he usually preferred it that way. But being with Yuzuru was nice--a rare treat. He wanted to milk it for all it was worth now that his head wasn't stuck in video game land.

Yuzuru looked absolutely radiating despite the dim lighting, much like a golden ray of sunshine. His dark hair, now mostly dried, prettily framed and contrasted with his face, accentuating his somewhat delicate features, like his dark, narrow eyes and his pink-tinted, soft-looking lips. His shoulders looked thin like the rest of him but there was a certain definition to them that spoke of strength, much like that in the muscles of his arms that were visible under the short sleeves of the white shirt that he had on that looked like it was practically clinging onto his skin. _He looked so good_ and Shoma was itching a little to touch more than just Yuzuru’s hand.

“Shoma.”

“Hm?” Shoma’s hum sounded distracted still, but this time it wasn't because of a mobile game.

“You're staring,” Yuzuru teased with a soft chuckle and Shoma could feel heat instantly rush up to his face in realization that he'd been caught. He used his free hand to playfully smack at Yuzuru’s chest, to pointedly tell him not to flatter himself, but Yuzuru unexpectedly caught his hand with his own, held it there against the beating of his heart. Shoma raised a questioning look up at his face and caught Yuzuru gently grazing his teeth over his bottom lip as he bit back a nervous smile.

“ _You're_ staring,” Shoma countered in a poor attempt at a comeback, pushing against Yuzuru’s chest to try to escape the other's hold on him. He suddenly felt overwhelmed with the desire to kiss Yuzuru and that was--nope, he was pretty sure that line of thinking was off limits for him. His heart pounded in his own chest and he silently prayed that Yuzuru couldn't hear it. The feel of Yuzuru’s warm fingers on his hands, thumbs drawing circles over the skin--it made matters worse for him, so he drew back. One of Yuzuru’s hands chased his a little, reluctant to let go, but eventually let him slip away. Shoma plopped down onto his back, lay there for a moment, then grabbed the pillow from under his head and repositioned it so that he was hugging it to his chest. He lifted his legs, bent at the knees, hoping that the pillow effectively hid most of his body from Yuzuru’s line of sight--for reasons.

Yuzuru turned further onto his side, completely facing Shoma, who lay stiff still on his back, as though he was afraid to move.

“I was just thinking about the skate. I need to work harder for next time. If you didn't fall on that quad, you could have snatched the gold from me this time.”

Shoma tilted his head to the side to meet the watchful, dark gaze of his competitor’s eyes. “If I didn't mess up the short program, I probably would have done a lot worse in my free. I think your gold medal is safe for now.”

Yuzuru shook his head. “No, safe never cuts it. I need to make sure I'm going above and beyond.” Of course he did. He was Yuzuru Hanyu, after all. Shoma would have rolled his eyes, except he completely understood that feeling. It actually made him ridiculously happy to be the one who was able to bring out Yuzuru’s desire to work even harder next time. If Yuzuru Hanyu saw him as a threat, that was the biggest compliment he could get as a figure skater. “If I don't, you'll do to me what you did to all those other skaters at the Olympics who never saw you coming,” Yuzuru commented with a playful tone. Shoma’s stared at him a little owlishly, his large eyes blinking occasionally, his lashes briefly casting shadows over his skin in the dim lighting of the room.

“What do you mean, _who never saw me coming_?” Yuzuru laughed, his tone warm and playful and Shoma stared in wonder.

“I think you hardly left your room? No one ever saw you after the team event. I think some people didn't even know you were competing in the singles--they thought you'd left or something until you showed up to the warm up. What were you doing the rest of that time anyway?”

“Playing games,” Shoma admitted casually, drawing another laugh out of Yuzuru.

“Of course you were.”

“That's all I did during the Olympics. I was in my room playing games until I had to skate.”

“So that was your secret to snatching the silver.”

“It worked.”

“Yeah, it worked, but then you were so loopy after the medals ceremony. I thought you were just intimidated by that grand scale of attention we were getting, like you hadn't expected to do so well, so I did my best to look after you, but really you were probably just tired from gaming all night, huh?”

“No, it was the unfamiliar environment. It was a lot. It really helped having you by my side, so thank you.” This won him another smile from Yuzuru, who then scooted a little closer as he reached for his discarded phone once more.

“Did you watch your playback from today?”

“No, I didn't have a phone, remember? The whole thing is kind of a blur but I remember that at the moment, I really… all the elements and transitions just kind of felt _correct_ , so I knew I had to be doing well up until the end.” He watched Yuzuru maneuver his way through the apps on his phone until he pulled up a video and held it out for the both of them to see. Shoma initially got terrified when he realized what it was and wanted to turn away, but then the image of himself on the screen began moving to the long program music and Shoma realized that it wasn’t that bad. Yuzuru turned up the volume and the two of them wound up watching together, making comments on his execution of different elements. He heard Yuzuru make a sound deep in his throat as the Shoma on the screen fell into a _very sinful-looking_ cantilever and it drew his attention away from the screen for a moment.

They wound up watching both his and Yuzuru’s programs, and when they got up to Shoma’s short program at the very end, he whined and refused to watch, telling Yuzuru to turn it off and trying to grab the phone from his hands to turn it off himself, except Yuzuru had longer arms and easily pulled it out of his reach.

“It wasn’t _that_ bad,” Yuzuru argued.

“If you make me watch it, I’ll start playing Knives Out again and ignore you for the rest of the night.”

“If you do that, I’ll take it as an invitation to tickle you again,” Yuzuru warned, and to make his point, he reached under the pillow that Shoma had hugged to his body and felt around for the hem of his shirt. Shoma lifted the pillow and smacked him in the face with it, making Yuzuru burst out into unabashed giggles. The video continued to play on the screen, though neither of them was paying much attention to it anymore. Yuzuru was too busy laughing and Shoma pointedly turned over onto his other side, wrapping his body around the pillow and purposefully facing his back to the gold medalist. Yuzuru pushed himself up onto his elbows and peered over at him.

“Okay, I won’t make you watch it, but it really wasn’t that bad.” As a force of habit, Yuzuru, having noticed the tag of Shoma’s t-shirt sticking out a little, reached out and tugged at the material so that he could tuck it in, patting the back of the shirt down to flatten it again once he’d done so. Shoma only flinched a little bit initially and then relaxed once he realized what it was that Yuzuru was doing. At one point, Shoma had thought that Yuzuru did these kinds of things to him to baby him in front of the cameras, but--really, it was just Yuzuru being Yuzuru, nitpicking at Shoma’s appearance to make sure he looked his best even when it was completely unnecessary. Shoma had secretly grown to enjoy those little moments, and even now, it made him relax. Yuzuru sat up further after pulling his hand away from Shoma’s back and Shoma turned back over to see what he was doing, only to see him watching the rest of that cursed video.

“Fine, you can watch it alone,” Shoma muttered, once more lying on his back. His arms and knees squeezed the plush white pillow, wishing it were just a little bigger to accommodate his body better. He stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the short program music to end and the replay to begin. When it did, Yuzuru turned it off and Shoma felt a little shuffling beside him. He tipped his head to the side to see Yuzuru sitting up on his knees and gazing down at him.

“I’m a little jealous of your cantilever. It always looks so good,” Yuzuru admitted. It was a compliment, and Shoma knew that, and yet he couldn’t help being a little brat.

“Yeah? Well your hydroblade still looks pretty stupid,” he teased, and Yuzuru completely balked before yanking the pillow that Shoma had been hugging out of his grasp to start smacking him with it for insulting one of his favourite moves. Shoma made a _‘eep’_ sound and tried to block the assault and somehow, at some point, Yuzuru wound up straddling his waist, with his knees on either side of Shoma’s petite frame, pillow raised up in the air as Shoma crossed his arms over his face in anticipation for the hit that never came. He hesitantly moved his arms away from his eyes just enough to see what Yuzuru was doing and their eyes locked.

The air around them felt heavy. Shoma’s chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. Yuzuru’s gaze was… intense. So intense. It wasn’t Shoma’s first time experiencing it, but it was definitely his first time experiencing it while Yuzuru had him trapped in this compromising position. Shoma fidgeted under Yuzuru’s weight, idly wondering if he could knock Yuzuru off balance as he cautiously brought his hands down to his sides, his fingers digging into the bedspread and bunching it up. Without thinking about it, he raised his hips, and then immediately froze over in terror as realization hit him the moment he came in contact with Yuzuru. Yuzuru’s eyes widened, his lips parted in surprise, and he broke their eye contact to look downward--and Shoma wished he could just get swallowed up by the bed, never to be seen again. Because no doubt, Yuzuru must have _felt that_. Shoma’s face flushed, feeling extremely hot and _exposed_ all of a sudden. He wanted to hide, run away, _anything_ , but that was hard to do without aggravating this _situation_ any further. Instead, he just let out a soft whimper and turned his head to the side. Yuzuru at some point had let go of the pillow and Shoma reached for it, squeezed it and held it in its place for now, remembering why he’d originally grabbed onto it in the first place.

“Yuzu,” he breathed out finally when Yuzuru had been silent and unmoving for far too long. Yuzuru’s head snapped up. Something about the way Shoma had voiced out the name sounded more erotic than he had ever intended for it to. All he wanted was for the gold medalist to show him some mercy and pretend this never happened. Yuzuru raised his own hips, allowing Shoma some space to breathe, but he didn’t move off of him. Instead, he reached over to trace his fingers gently over Shoma’s jaw, over the uneven red patches of a blush that had spread across his skin. With his index finger, he tipped Shoma’s face so that he was looking up again and they made eye contact once more. Shoma’s eyes were large, dark, beautiful--watching as Yuzuru swallowed heavily, causing his Adam’s apple to shift up and back down in his throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you…” Yuzuru trailed off, making an awkward hand gesture with a flick of his wrist down towards Shoma’s lower half that only made the situation worse somehow. Shoma wondered how he could just say and do something like that with such a straight face.

“It’s fine, it’ll pass, just leave it alone,” he insisted, hoping that Yuzuru would do just that to spare him the embarrassment of popping a boner while they were talking about figure skating.

“Really?” Yuzuru was not making this easy for him. “If you want, I can...” Yuzuru didn’t finish the sentence but instead made a rather vulgar motion with his hand, and Shoma’s eyes widened further, staring at it in disbelief that Yuzuru would even suggest that.

“Wh-what?” he rasped out, cringing at how his voice sounded. Yuzuru subconsciously traced his fingers from Shoma’s cheek down to the side of his neck where the blush pattern continued. The touch was extremely gentle and Shoma suddenly noticed that Yuzuru had lifted his hips earlier so that it would be very easy for Shoma to slip out from underneath him if he wanted to. Except he couldn’t quite make himself. Whatever the reason, he stubbornly attributed it to fatigue after such a long day and not nearly enough sleep. Yuzuru must have taken notice that Shoma had no intentions of moving, because after a moment, he leaned down and gently pressed their foreheads together, exhaled a breath that felt hot against Shoma’s skin and caused him to shudder a little bit.

“Do you want me to…?” Instead of finishing the question, Yuzuru lowered his hand down from his neck and rested it over the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close to Shoma’s problem area. His fingertips teased the exposed skin there ever so lightly, almost a feather-like touch, and Shoma felt himself twitch unwittingly in response, felt himself grow impossibly harder in response to the unspoken suggestion.

“Y-you don’t have to--” Shoma bit down on his bottom full bottom lip and Yuzuru’s eyes followed, dark and filled with a want that Shoma had never seen in them before-- _perhaps he would have seen it were he not so engrossed in his game earlier_.

“I want to.”

_Oh._

All it took was a small nod of Shoma’s head--permission for Yuzuru to proceed. Shoma threw his head back as Yuzuru finally shifted his hand further south and applied pressure to where he needed it most, palming over the prominent bulge that had poked him earlier when Shoma had lifted his hips. Shoma’s lips parted in a gasp and he fell slack-jawed as his hips bulked up for more contact. The foreign touch over the clothes felt good, but he still felt restricted--it wasn't enough. He felt his dick straining against the soft cotton of the sweats and thought of Yuzuru reaching inside and wrapping those long, thin fingers around it, just so…

Yuzuru watched his every movement, completely taken by each facial expression that passed across the silver medalist’s face, every small reaction that he managed to elicit from Shoma’s body--from the hitched breaths, to the involuntary hip movements, to the desperate clawing at the bedspread.

But there was something else.

Shoma whined softly as he felt the hand feeling around him more intently, a motion that made him _squirm_ in a mixture of discomfort and need-- _what was Yuzuru doing?_ Before he could ask, he was met with a surprised look and then--

“You're not wearing underwear,” Yuzuru suddenly commented as though he had just made an amazing discovery, and that shattered the mental image Shoma had just created in his head and instead filled him with a new wave of embarrassment for getting called out like that. He squirmed, growing self conscious of the fact--something he never really gave much thought to before. There really was a very simple explanation as to why he’d forgone underwear, but he didn’t exactly want to explain that to Yuzuru right now. His fingers dug further into the bedspread and he worried his bottom lip, trying his best not to feel annoyed right now, but...

“Are you really complaining about that right now?” he asked, rather exasperated that Yuzuru would just _say_ something like that while they were… _well_.

“Definitely not complaining,” Yuzuru reassured, something in the tone of his voice going straight to Shoma’s dick, his previous annoyance forgotten just like that. Yuzuru’s face was still impossibly close and he shifted it even closer so that he could speak into Shoma’s ear. “You came to my room with no underwear on. That was bold of you.”

Shoma whined, torn between feeling _annoyed_ once more and incredibly turned on. “That’s not…” he paused to gasp as he felt Yuzuru’s hand resume giving him lazy strokes over the soft cotton fabric that did nothing to conceal the hardness that lay underneath. Shoma’s hips bulked up sporadically against the pressure, subconsciously seeking out more. “That’s good…” he breathed out, momentarily forgetting what he’d been saying.

“That’s not what?” Yuzuru urged him on to finish his previous thought, which was so hard to do under his ministrations. Shoma released his hold on the sheets with one hand and brought it up to instead grasp at Yuzuru’s shoulder, finding that it would give him better leverage.

“I didn’t. Do that for you. I just can’t stand how they feel on me sometimes,” Shoma said in between breaths.

“That actually explains a lot of things.”

“Wh-what?” He didn’t understand how Yuzuru was able to carry out such a casual conversation while his hand was on another guy’s dick. Shoma could barely manage one sensation at a time without having to focus on forming actual words.

“Sometimes when I see you, outside of the rink--when you’re just hanging out, your pants kind of sit in a way that… it’s like they’re hugging you, kind of like a glove. I can see your curves so clearly through them. Kind of like today, I noticed earlier when you were playing, when you were lying on your stomach like that, your butt looked very nice in those--”

“Please stop talking, oh my god!” Shoma desperately buried his face in Yuzuru’s shoulder, his fingers digging harshly into the skin that lay under the thin, white shirt that he wore. He could feel his face burning, because Yuzuru had just casually admitted to looking at his ass earlier as if it were no big deal. Shoma never thought the lack of underwear would make any difference in how he looked--he never thought it would be _noticeable_ , but apparently Yuzuru had been noticing _something_ for a while now.

He felt a light vibration--a gentle, almost affectionate-sounding chuckle reverberating out of Yuzuru throat as Yuzuru dotingly rested his cheek against the side of Shoma’s head. Shoma made to ask him accusingly why he was laughing, but just as he parted his lips, Yuzuru pulled his hand away, suddenly depriving him of the contact he’d only just gotten used to.

“Yuzu...” Shoma whined at the loss and tried to arch his hips upward in a desperate attempt to bring that contact back to where he most wanted it, but found himself unable to do that as Yuzuru shifted to hold his hips down against the mattress. Yuzuru lifted his upper body back up, in the process detaching Shoma from his shoulder. Shoma lay his head back down, his hand coming to rest back at his side and his blown eyes seeking out Yuzuru’s pleadingly. Yuzuru’s hand had felt so good, even if it was just over clothing--way better than doing this himself, anyway. Yuzuru shifted his body, slipping one knee in between Shoma’s legs to effectively push them apart, to which Shoma easily complied, almost too eagerly, putting all his trust into Yuzuru’s hands… literally.

“Lift your head a little,” Yuzuru ordered, reaching up to place a hand on the back of Shoma’s neck to support him a little as he did so, and then he slipped the previously discarded pillow underneath it to give him something more cushiony than just the mattress. “Is that more comfortable?”

Shoma nodded his head--his comfort was the _last_ of his concern right now, but it was sweet that Yuzuru cared so much. He voiced as much and Yuzuru chuckled amiably, making him smile despite his current lack of patience. He was glad--he was _so_ glad that this was with Yuzu and not with someone else. Yuzu, who was his number one motivation. Yuzu, whom he for some reason trusted more than anyone else in the figure skating circuit. Yuzu, who always took such good care of him even though he really wasn’t obliged to.

He didn't manage to take that thought further because Yuzuru ground down against him and Shoma gasped loudly at the sudden overwhelming burst of pleasure that shot through him from the friction. He lifted his leg up a bit as Yuzuru bent his own knee just under his thigh, spreading both of them out in a tangled mess of limbs. At the second thrust, Shoma scrambled to grab onto Yuzuru’s shoulder once again, nails digging into that ridiculously tight shirt that he really wished wasn’t there right now so that he could just claw at Yuzuru’s actual skin. His hand stayed there for a short while and then he moved it to the back of Yuzuru’s neck, carded his fingers a little through the hair at the nape. He wanted--something. More. He wasn't sure what yet, so he just let Yuzuru dry hump him like this for the time being--because that felt good too.

It was messy and a bit rushed. Yuzuru ran his hands up from Shoma’s hips, up over the waistband of his sweats and slipped just under the black t-shirt to rest on either side of Shoma’s waist as their hips met thrust for thrust. Then Yuzuru’s lips were on his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin--sucking, biting, kissing, no doubt leaving marks. The consequence of this was the last thing on either of their minds and Shoma’s fingers tightened on the back of his neck in encouragement to keep doing that. Then he felt a hand slipping around him to the small of his back and he arched his body upward to accommodate it, felt the hand slip down past the waistbands of his sweatpants--and then Yuzuru’s fingers kneaded at his butt and, “ _Oh!_ ”

Yuzuru immediately lifted his head to seek out Shoma’s eyes. “That okay?” he asked, worried he'd overstepped.

Shoma shook his head, then rushed out breathily, “Yes--yes, it’s very okay. Don’t stop.”

His mind put at ease, Yuzuru returned his attention to Shoma’s neck, gently sucking at the skin just under his ear and the square of his jaw, subconsciously tracing the pattern of the his blush with his lips and the light grazing of his teeth. Shoma’s head rolled in the opposite direction to give him a better angle. It was all a bit much and he couldn’t quite figure out which part he should be paying more attention to--the friction against his dick, the hand squeezing his butt, or the surprisingly erotic feeling of Yuzuru’s lips nipping at what he only now realized was such a sensitive spot on his body.

The grinding then came to a stop as Yuzuru lifted his hips up and out of Shoma’s reach, evoking a whimper from Shoma’s throat until he slipped his hand around from where it had been resting on the perfect curve of Shoma’s ass to the front where his dick stood twitching at attention. His fingers teasingly traced the line of the hard organ just so, making Shoma shudder in his desire for _more_.

“Yuzu, please--!” he gasped out in a plea, not sure exactly _what_ he was begging for exactly and hoping that Yuzuru would figure it out for the both of them. His hips jutted upward in a desperate search for some kind of friction. He noticed Yuzuru turn his head downward and then tug at the band of his sweatpants, lifting it up and away from his skin, and to Shoma’s horror and embarrassment, it dawned on him what exactly Yuzuru was looking at.

“No, don't look at it,” he croaked out brittlely, his hand shooting downward to grab Yuzuru’s wrist in an effort to block his dick from the other’s line of sight. Yuzuru lifted his head to look at him inquisitively and Shoma could feel his own face burning, could feel the judgment in the stare.

“Really? That's where you draw the line?” Yuzuru asked in disbelief. Shoma realized that it was a bit ridiculous. They were already doing this so what was the harm in letting Yuzuru actually see? Besides, most people did this with their clothing _off_ … and yet…

“Sorry, I just…” Shoma tried to find words to explain his perhaps flawed logic, but Yuzuru saved him the trouble, his free hand cupping Shoma’s cheek to stop him from shyly looking away, the pad of his thumb gently caressing the soft skin.

“Hey, it's okay. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, okay? If you don't want me to look, I won't look. If you suddenly decide you want to stop, we'll stop.”

Shoma shook his head, tentatively let go of Yuzuru’s wrist and rested his hand against the other's stomach instead. He kept it there for a moment before slowly, hesitantly running it up towards the other’s chest, along the way feeling every tight muscle underneath the material of the shirt that clung to Yuzuru like a second skin. “If you stop, I'll get mad and send _your_ phone home as well,” he joked, effectively eliciting a laugh out of Yuzuru.

“Okay, I won't stop,” he said with fondness. “But… tell me what you want? How do you want to do this? Because it might be a little hard not to look unless you want to make a mess.” Shoma noticed the uncertainty and concern in Yuzuru’s eyes and realized that perhaps they were both fumbling around here because they both lacked experience with this kind of thing. That actually made him feel better, a little more confident.

“You can look,” he conferred, feeling a little silly for his nervousness. “I just got a little overwhelmed. Sorry.”

“Hey, no. Don’t apologize. Are you sure--”

“Yes! Please.”

Yuzuru gave a small nod. “Okay. Let me just…” He pushed himself up and slid off of Shoma until he was lying beside him once more. The momentary loss of contact evoked a soft whine of protest. Shoma’s watchful eyes followed his movements, watched as Yuzuru looked him dead in the eyes as he slipped his hand back down, fingers running south along Shoma’s stomach and into his pants, finally-- _finally_ \--wrapping around him. Shoma’s hand clung onto the front of Yuzuru’s shirt and the other found the sheets once more, bunching them up as he braced himself, trying his hardest not to unrestrainedly fuck up into the delicate hand that was now stroking him with a sort of artistic flair. He bit down hard on his bottom lip to bite back a moan, because it suddenly felt really good. Yuzuru stroked him almost as though he was putting on a performance on the ice, aiming to please, to win over the hearts of his spectators--or in this case, _Shoma_.

Shoma’s pants had been pushed down just enough to make the ministrations easier, the head of his throbbing erection occasionally bouncing against his stomach as Yuzuru’s hand worked on bringing him closer to completion, leaving a small trail of precum in its wake that Shoma could sort of feel on his stomach if he paid attention hard enough. At some point his shirt had ridden further up, which was probably for the best to avoid making too much of a mess. His breath hitched as Yuzuru’s hand paused towards the head so that he could run the pad of his thumb along the slit, picking up some of the pre and gliding it back down along the length in an effort to use it as a substitute for proper lubrication. Shoma was teetering along the edge, he could feel it--so close, he was so close, and yet…

Still not enough.

He groaned and rolled onto his side. Yuzuru’s head snapped back up to his face, gauging to see if he was okay. He followed suit after Shoma and lay down beside him so that they were now facing one another. The stroking of his hand was now more of a lazy motion as they once more tried to find their footing in this. Shoma stared into his eyes and subconsciously licked his own dry, cracked lips. He tasted a hint of a metallic flavour on his tongue--he must have bitten down on it too hard at some point and hadn't noticed.

“Yuzu.”

“Mm?”

This position was better, Shoma decided. He thoughtlessly smoothed out the skin-tight shirt under his fingertips, consciously feeling up the abs that lay hidden underneath, that he’d seen when Yuzuru first opened the door for him earlier. He came to a sudden realization that he hadn't even touched Yuzuru yet. All of this had been pretty much one-sided so far and he felt a little guilty for just taking and taking, and not giving anything back in return.

He worried his bottom lip. They lay so close to one another. Yuzuru’s face was maybe centimeters from his own at best. His lips, in a perfect bow-shape, looked so soft--a contrast to Shoma’s own. Something about Yuzuru’s facial features was just so unconventionally beautiful and other-worldly. Shoma really wanted to kiss him but couldn't help but notice that Yuzuru had seemingly avoided doing that thus far.

They were so close that Shoma could feel his hot breath on his skin and he wished he could swallow it up, take Yuzuru’s breath away. He pressed his head closer, bumping their foreheads together gently, not once breaking eye contact. If he wasn't allowed to kiss Yuzuru, he could still make the best of this situation.

His hand found the hem of Yuzuru’s shirt and he slipped it underneath, tracing the tight muscles of his incredibly thin waist. The skin felt hot under his touch, if not a little sweaty. One too many podium weddings had familiarized him with the exact shape of this part of Yuzuru’s body, but it was very different and incredibly nice to be able to touch it so intimately in this moment.

“What is it?” Yuzuru asked then after the prolonged silence and intense looks, voice soft, deep, _caring_. His hand had stilled its ministrations for the time being despite the weight of Shoma’s hardness twitching against it. Shoma looked really pretty like this, face flushed, eyes large and rounded, cheek pressed into the edge of Yuzuru’s pillow due to their proximity. His bottom lip with stained red and looked puffy, bruised from all the self-induced abuse Shoma had given it. His hair clung to his forehead and tickled Yuzuru’s skin where they touched. His forehead felt hot against his own, probably due to the perspiration. Yuzuru subconsciously pressed his body closer against the touch of Shoma’s soft hand against his skin. When Shoma didn't answer right away and he detected hesitation, he asked again, “Please tell me what you want.”

Shoma’s eyes flickered down a little to his lips and then back up. “Can… is it okay if I kiss you?”

Suddenly, it was Yuzuru’s turn to blush, his cheeks growing warm--Shoma must have felt it from their closeness, must have seen it due to how intensely he was watching him.

“Y-you… want to kiss me?” he asked softly, his voice exuding an uncharacteristic nervousness and shyness that he usually lacked in the way he normally carried himself. Shoma reached up with the hand that had been laying trapped between them and lightly touched his fingers to Yuzuru’s face, his skin impossibly smooth to the touch.

“Yes,” he replied breathily. They were already this close. Kissing was the next logical step, and Shoma really, really wanted that. But… “You don't?” he asked, a little afraid of what answer he was going to get due to how Yuzuru had reacted.

It took Yuzuru a second to take this all in, but once he did, he shook his head, not wanting to give Shoma the wrong idea. “No--of course I do.” He abandoned Shoma’s dick temporarily and Shoma didn't even mind as the hand wove up and around his neck, fingers pressing into his skin for leverage. If Shoma could feel a little slickness of precum on them, he didn't currently care. It was a wonder that Yuzuru was able to do all this with a straight face and then managed to look so embarrassed and shy at the mention of _kissing_. It was adorable in a way.

Yuzuru was impossibly gentle and sensual at first as he closed the short distance between them and pressed their lips together. He ran his fingers up into Shoma’s hair as he kissed him--once, twice, his lips nipping at Shoma’s almost teasingly, forcing Shoma to give chase with a muffled moan because he needed _more_.

Shoma pressed in closer, bent his knee to drape it up over Yuzuru’s hips. He arched his body forward as well as he licked and nipped at Yuzuru’s lips with a surge of hunger. He ran his hand up to Yuzuru’s chest, pushing the shirt up along with it in the process. With his fingers splayed out, he applied some pressure, pushing against him and effectively rolling him onto his back, taking control of the situation. He tipped his head until he was at a comfortable enough angle to continue the sensual, needy kisses that Yuzuru had thus far deprived him of. He enjoyed every hitch of breath and every soft sound that Yuzuru produced beneath him. He carefully ground his hips down in a circular motion and they both gasped at the same time, Yuzuru from the sudden friction and Shoma from the hardness that he felt pressing up against him for the first time. Perhaps that’s what had been missing--the knowledge that he was making Yuzuru enjoy this as well.

Yuzuru’s breathing started growing a little laboured and short, and Shoma picked up on it, feeling the tenseness in the muscles of his jaw and the slight heaving of his chest. He broke the kiss in favour of gingerly trailing smaller kisses down along his face to his neck, allowing Yuzuru a chance to catch his breath. He mouthed at the outline of the Phiten necklace that Yuzuru always wore as he continued rocking his hips down. He could feel every vibration under the skin of Yuzuru’s neck as he grazed his teeth up its length and continued to pepper small kisses over his Adam’s apple, his lips slowly making their way back up to Yuzuru’s chin and further up to the corner of his lips again. The pace of their frottage gradually grew and Shoma started to find it a little hard to focus, felt himself growing closer and closer--he just needed a little more stimulus.

He pressed his forehead against Yuzuru’s once more, though this time his eyes slid shut, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks from where Yuzuru was gazing up at him. Their noses brushed against one another ever so faintly, their breaths mingled in between them to the point where they couldn’t tell which breath belonged to whom.

Shoma abandoned his firm hold on Yuzuru’s chest and reached down into his own sweatpants to firmly wrap his fingers around himself, frantically stroking himself closer to completion. He adjusted the angle of his hips so that Yuzuru’s stiff erection pressed hard into the curve of his ass just past his ball sack with every thrust, the friction against the sensitive spot stimulating him almost overwhelmingly. Yuzuru’s hands grasped at his hips on either side, guiding Shoma’s spasmodic, jerky downwards thrusts to meet every upwards bulk of the gold medalist’s own hips and retain some semblance of a rhythm that had become far too erratic. Shoma’s hand quickened and Yuzuru could feel it brush against his stomach with every messy, spastic upstroke. Yuzuru couldn’t take his eyes off of Shoma’s face, which looked impossibly wanton, erotic. He watched the quiver of those full, reddened lips, mouth open in an obscene o-shape, jaw dropped, eyes shut, breaths coming out irregularly, chest heaving shakily in a sign that he was so, _so_ close--and Yuzuru had a fairly clear vision of how Shoma would finish, spilling over onto his exposed stomach down below with that same obscene look on his face--and that visual was enough to send him over the edge.

Shoma felt it the moment that Yuzuru came undone, the other’s thrusts having suddenly become as spastic as his own. His hand quickened, stroking fast, _messy_ \--he occasionally lost his grip and slipped off, going too far. Everything was becoming a blur. He cried out and buried his head into the pillow right next to Yuzuru’s face, breathing hot and heavy against Yuzuru’s neck, his free hand grasping desperately onto whatever it could reach on the other side of the gold medalist’s face, a few strands of dark hair having fallen between his fingers as he squeezed the pillow hard. His body shuddered--once, twice, then he was spilling over.

Yuzuru’s hand stroked over his back as he waited for Shoma to come down from his high, feeling the now sweat-soaked T-shirt clinging to the skin underneath. Shoma’s breathing was still a bit uncontrolled and he seemed to still be twitching a little despite his body having fallen a bit listless on top of him. Bringing his hands with care to either side of Shoma’s waist, Yuzuru carefully rolled him off just enough to slip out from underneath him, letting Shoma monopolize the side of the bed that he himself had previously occupied, including his hypoallergenic pillow.

He looked down on himself and made a face as he experimentally brushed his fingers over the cum that had wound up there. He didn’t notice that Shoma had glanced over at him until he heard a tired, shaky chuckle that caused the mattress to flutter a little from the vibration. His head shot up to see Shoma looking at him with half his face still buried in the pillow. He couldn’t even feign being mad at Shoma for laughing at his state of discomfort. He glanced over towards his tissue box over on the end table on the other side of the bed and felt wrong on every level when he made eye contact with his lifelong companion Winnie the Pooh tissue box cover that looked so unsuspecting and innocent over there. Yuzuru groaned and covered his face with his clean hand, then felt a poke at the side of his hips and glanced back down at Shoma, who had tiredly turned onto his side, still looking rather blissed and out of it.

“Rude, it wasn’t that bad,” Shoma practically exhaled the words, almost in a whisper. Yuzuru immediately realized how that groan must have come off and quickly amended himself.

“No, that’s not--I just realized that Pooh is _right there_ ,” he explained, sounding more troubled by the fact than he probably should have been. He grabbed the hotel pillow and brought it up to cover his face with it as he groaned once more. “I hope I haven’t traumatized him.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Shoma said sleepily.

They were quiet for a moment before Yuzuru finally decided that nothing could be changed now that the deed was done. He sat up and, after muttering an apology to his Pooh, accompanied by a small, modest bow of his head in that general direction, he took off to go wash off as Shoma appeared to have dozed off quite peacefully.

***

“Your pants are too long,” Shoma complained the next morning.

“You only need them long enough to get to your room.” Shoma grunted, then tugged in discomfort at the turtleneck of Yuzuru’s workout shirt, which was overall far too tight on him.

“How do you breathe in this?”

Yuzuru’s hands turned him around by the shoulders so that he was facing the door and gave him a nudge. “Go change into one of your own and you’ll feel better.” Shoma grunted once more in response. Both of them were at fault--Yuzuru for deciding it was okay to give him a hickey last night, and Shoma for deciding that it felt too good to worry about the consequences. Shoma silently pledged to reverse their positions the next time they did this--as revenge.

For now, they had a small medals ceremony to get to.

***

Later that morning, at the small medals ceremony, after much talk about Shoma’s record-breaking free skate score, they were posed the question: “What did you do last night to celebrate your victory?”

The mic was given to Shoma first, who took a second to recall last night's events with a blank look on his face before handing it over to Yuzuru. Yuzuru tried to refuse taking it at first but then took an example from Shoma and passed it on to Mikhail so that he could answer first. Shoma uncomfortably fidgeted with the neck of his shirt--this one less tight but still equally uncomfortable on his throat under his JSF hoodie.

After the bronze medalist gave his response and passed the mic back over to Yuzuru, Yuzuru hummed in thought as though he was having a hard time coming up with the words for his answer, looked at Shoma, and then passed the mic on to him, saying, “Shoma can go first.” Shoma gave him a pointed look, which he returned, having their own silent exchange before Shoma reluctantly complied and took the mic, because it wouldn't do to keep everyone waiting while they fought over who should talk first.

“I played games,” was the only response that Shoma provided before handing the mic back to Yuzuru with an extra shove. Everyone laughed and the interviewer asked if that was really all he did after that kind of performance--and if he perhaps played with a friend. Shoma was forced to keep the mic for a moment longer than he liked. He repeated, almost in the same exact words and tone as previously, “I played games by myself.” Realizing they weren't going to get a better answer out of him, they decided to move on to Yuzuru.

“We hope you did something more celebratory,” the interviewer joked amiably. _Oh, if only they knew…_ It was a good thing they didn't, and hopefully never will.

Yuzuru opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then tipped his head to the side in thought for a moment before finally bringing the mic to his lips. “I watched Shoma play games.” He immediately stretched the mic back out to the interviewer, who unfortunately didn't seem done grilling them.

“You watched Shoma play games? Did you play together then?”

Yuzuru took his time replying. “No. He…” He looked at Shoma, who smiled stiffly, visibly uncomfortable in front of the crowd that looked so interested in whatever they did after their victory the previous day. “He didn't have his phone, so he took mine. He didn't invite me to join him.”

This made Shoma laugh along with everyone else, a bashful and beautiful smile on his face as he failed to deflect the attention off of himself. He felt like the meek, awkward, _embarrassed_ 19-year-old figure skater that he was once upon a time whenever put on the spot. He waved his hand from side to side in a form of denial. “No, no, no. He doesn't like the games I play, so I played alone,” he spoke in his soft, lilted voice, trying really hard not to blush in embarrassment in front of all these people. Thankfully the interviewer decided to save him then.

“Alright, we're running short on time, so we're going to wrap this up with…”

As her voice faded into the background, Shoma caught Yuzuru’s eyes on him and they both exchanged a knowing, fond look. They couldn't wait for the rest of the season.


End file.
